


The Hammock

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Disabled Character, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Mentions of Cal and Jiaying, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Phil Coulson, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Needs a Hug, Post S2, Skoulson Sex Cabin, mentions of Miles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 02:45:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5230925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye and Coulson take some time to recover at The Retreat post S2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hammock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts).



> I found [this prompt](http://pers-books.tumblr.com/post/131102140729/brainboxy-hi-friends-just-here-to-remind-you) I'd reblogged and remembered that I hadn't written the fic yet, so here it is.

Skye rocks the hammock gently, her foot touching the ground just often enough to keep up the momentum. She could use her powers, of course, but right now she's quite happy to do this old-school. 

Coulson's sharing the hammock with her and she feels his vibrations beginning to change; she suspects he's having a nightmare – he's been having them a lot since he lost his arm (he's not alone in having bad dreams as a result of events aboard the Iliad). She presses the hand on his back more firmly to him, feeling the heat of his skin through the thin cotton of the well-worn t-shirt he's wearing, and curls the fingers of her left hand loosely around his nape, then closes her eyes and concentrates on soothing his vibrations. She's getting quite good at this, she thinks, and sure enough, after a few minutes, Coulson relaxes again.

She continues to rock the hammock, allowing the gentle motion to soothe her into a state of half-waking drowsiness, and feels her own body beginning to loosen up.

AC-S-AC-S-AC

Coulson can't seem to stop himself from gently stroking his fingers through Skye's hair – she decided to get it cut a couple of days ago, and they're both still getting used to the change. She's currently sprawled atop him in the hammock she rigged up in the grounds of The Retreat when they got here a few days ago. They've spent quite a lot of time lying in it, and usually Skye's the one supporting him while he sleeps, but today she's worn herself out trying out some new tricks with her powers, and she quickly fell asleep on him when they came out here after lunch. He's doing his best to keep the hammock rocking, one foot just touching the ground so he can maintain its movement.

They're heading back to the Playground tomorrow, and he's sort of dreading it. After so many weeks of him and Skye getting separated over and over, he's been relishing her constant companionship, and how supportive she's been to him over the loss of his arm. They haven't discussed it yet, but he suspects that she blames herself for what happened, what with it being her mother's plan that was at the root of the events aboard the Iliad. He knows she's also carrying the weight of her guilt about her mother's death at her father's hands, and that that guilt is probably weighing heavier now Cal's gone. He plans on suggesting that they go and see 'Dr Winslow' in a few days, just so she can be sure that the TAHITI program really did work on Cal.

He feels her stirring awake and lifts his hand from her hair, placing it on her back instead, and she murmurs something indistinguishable.

"Skye?"

"Mmhmm," she answers, which isn't really an answer, but he doesn't mind. After a few moments she lifts her head, looking up at him, all bleary-eyed, her expression softened, still, by sleep, and he has to force himself not to lean in and kiss her. She shifts against him, though, and he realises with embarrassment, that his cock's hard, and she can probably feel that, given they're both wearing shorts.

"Skye," he begins, "I am so sorry. I – "

"Phil," she says, cutting off his self-recrimination; he tightens his arm around her, surprised by her use of his first name. "Don't apologise."

"But – " he begins.

She pulls herself up his chest a little further, then presses her lips softly to his.

"Oh!" he gasps, shocked to his core. 

Skye takes advantage of his gasp, slipping her tongue into his mouth, and he finds himself kissing her back without having made a conscious decision to do so. He can't help it, he moans into her mouth, and she chuckles quietly, then deliberately grinds herself against his swollen shaft.

"Fuck!"

"Yeah," she says breathily against his mouth. "But not here."

He groans loudly as she moves off his body, then helps him from the hammock. He can't quite believe this is happening, but he finds he's unable to muster up any objections.

She holds his hand tightly as they head into the cabin, and Coulson's half convinced Skye will change her mind when they get inside, but she just leads him straight into the bedroom.

"Phil," she calls softly, cupping his cheeks in her hands. "I want this, okay? I want you – have done for ages – but if you don't feel comfortable with the idea, just say so." She drops her hands to hold his elbows, squeezing the left one very carefully.

"Skye," he says, his voice as shaky as the rest of him. "I do. But I haven't been with anyone since I died."

She smiles reassuringly at him. "Yeah? Well I haven't been with anyone since Miles, and since then I've become an Inhuman." She slips her arms around him and hugs him gently. "Who knows, I may bring the roof down on us."

He gives a strangled laugh at that, wrapping his own arm around her. "Try not to, uh?"

She pulls back enough to look him in the eye. "Well, Director, that kinda depends on you, eh?"

He feels heat flood his body at her words, and the way she's looking at him – like he's desirable, not a damaged man with only one proper arm, and a scar across his chest.

"Okay?" she asks softly.

He nods, and she guides him over to the bed, pushing him to sit down, then kneeling to get his shoes and socks off. She puts her hand on his knee as she stands, giving it a little squeeze, then she kicks off her own shoes. 

"Would you rather leave your t-shirt on?" she asks. "And the sling?"

"I – yeah," he says, touched by the delicacy of the question.

She nods, as if he's being completely reasonable. "Get comfy, Phil," she tells him, gesturing at the bed, so he manoeuvres himself to lie in the middle of the bed, piling up pillows beneath his head. She clearly waits until he's settled before pulling her own t-shirt off, and Coulson feels his mouth go dry at the sight of her. She locks eyes with him as she reaches behind her to unfasten her bra, and he shifts on the bed, aware that his cock, which had softened a bit, is hardening again.

"You're gorgeous," he breathes, and she smiles at him, then drops her shorts, revealing a pair of panties that match her discarded bra.

"Like what you see, Phil?" she asks, her tone implying she expects a positive answer. She drops her panties too.

"Yeah. I – You – _Skye_."

She giggles softly as his incoherence, then climbs onto the end of the bed. She kneels beside him, and he immediately reaches out to touch her, glad that she's on his right. She tugs his shorts and boxers down together, then licks her lips when his erection pops free.

"You know, Phil, I always suspected you were hiding a lot under those tailored suits of yours. I'm glad I wasn't wrong."

He groans when she accompanies her words with a teasing stroke up the length of his shaft.

"Skye, please," he begs. He's not above begging, he realises, not with Skye.

She curls her fingers around his cock, then shifts to straddle him. "Okay?"

He nods eagerly, and clasps her thigh as she lowers herself onto him. They both groan loudly as he fills her – and once he's fully inside her, she leans forward, taking her weight on her hands, to kiss him thoroughly. He can't restrain his hips from snapping up, and she chuckles against his mouth, pushes his body down with her own, then slowly raises herself up until he almost slips out of her, before she slides back down again.

She moves slowly and carefully at first, her expression tender as she works him up towards orgasm. He runs his hand up and down her thigh, and wishes, desperately, that he still had two working hands so he can hold her properly.

Skye doesn't seem to mind, however, and she soon guides his hand between her legs. He gets the idea immediately and begins rubbing her clit as she starts to move faster.

She comes once, twice, then a third time, in rapid succession, and although loose objects in the room rattle a bit, nothing falls down or breaks. As she comes the third time, Coulson feels his balls tightening, and a few moments later he spills inside her, feeling as if his cock might explode from the intensity of his orgasm. Her name is a loud cry on his lips as he pumps his hips, and she's groaning "Phil, Phil," over and over.

Once they've both climaxed, Skye lowers herself down over him, her weight resting on her forearms until he curves his right hand over her back and presses her down.

"Are you okay?" she asks, sounding a bit anxious, and he's surprised to discover he's crying.

"Yeah," he says quietly. "Just – that was intense."

She nods, then kisses him softly, before trailing her lips along his jawline until she can nibble on his ear. "That was really good, Phil," she says, her breath tickling his ear.

"Yeah," he agrees easily. 

She tucks her face into the curve of his neck, and they fall asleep, Skye still lying atop him, and his softening cock still inside her. As he feels himself drifting off, Coulson decides that maybe he's not completely washed up after all.


End file.
